


Forelsket

by fanficparker



Series: Thing 1 & Thing 2 - A Collection of Hollerfield fics [2]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay, High School, High School Crush, Hollerfield - Freeform, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, TAZ - Freeform, Tarrison, Teen Romance, Teen love, Tom x haz, Tomhaz, Torrison, kiss, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficparker/pseuds/fanficparker
Summary: Forelsket: The euphoria of falling in love for the first time.Tom is a troubled teen. He can’t write his papers, he’s on the verge of failing his exam until a stranger slid his paper for him to copy.Read my Hollerfield fics on myWattpad account.
Relationships: Harrison Osterfield/Tom Holland, Tom Holland/Harrison Osterfield
Series: Thing 1 & Thing 2 - A Collection of Hollerfield fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686478
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Forelsket

**Author's Note:**

> (Written in Tom's POV)

I looked into the microscope. The patch on the display was blotchy and green with some pink dots. I don't remember seeing anything like this in previous lab sessions ever. Or maybe I missed the class when we prepared this particular slide. But my page was still empty except for my name, roll number and date. I couldn't recognise the previous four slides too. Just three more are left. There was no doubt I ruined my theory exam and now I will ruin the practical too. There was no hope for me to pass this exam.

If I fail... Maybe... Maybe they'll send me back to Chris. And it's the last thing I ever want on Earth to happen.

I gulped slowly. It was painful. My throat felt dry. I wanted to drink water but I only have limited time to finish this paper and the page in front of me is completely blank. My stomach crumbled painfully. Now I could even taste the bile in my mouth. The next I could feel were my eyes getting wet.

God, I can't cry right in front of my whole fucking class. I let my eyes wander around the students. My gaze fell on the paper next to me.

Beautiful diagrams and a detailed description of the slides.

If he's not seeing then maybe I can copy. I held my breath and scribbled on my paper as fast as I can. Half of his paper was covered by his hand while he was looking into his microscope. I tried my best to copy the visible portion. His head bent at the paper to write the answer for the next question. His blue eyes met mine. My heart dropped.

I haven't copied enough to pass yet. I looked at him hopefully and sorry. He looked at my paper. I felt so ashamed, weak, dumb and guilty— not the best combination of obscure feelings all at the same time.

He slid his paper towards me and smiled.

I blinked in disbelief.

"Return it to me in ten minutes at microscope number seven," he whispered and shifted to the next specimen, carefully observing and writing the conclusion in the extra sheet.

I took in a sharp breath, remembered God and ran my pen on my paper. I changed the text structure and numbering a little bit. Five questions were enough for me to pass in aggregate.

When I got to the sixth specimen I had written enough to pass and slid his paper back to him, mumbling a thank you. He simply nodded like it was nothing. He again smiled at me. The kind of smile that made his clear blue eyes shiny and corners crinkle.

I wished I knew how to smile like that. I returned him a smile, surely not even one percent of the brightness of his. He stapled the pages together and moved to deposit the papers like most of the other students and walked out of the lab.

I had read his name on the paper— _Harrison John Osterfield._

***

From that day on, I observed that he was pretty famous in our boarding school, always in the good books of the teachers. He studied in the other section and lived in hostel number five.

I didn't stalk him, he was just one of those people who were way too visible on the school campus. I have seen him setting up posters, sitting in the cafeteria, library, park and almost everywhere on the campus. Sometimes he would be walking around the gardens, headphones tucked in his ears, sometimes he would be sitting on the bench reading a book or sometimes doing his homework in the library.

I don't know if he noticed me. I am surely not that visible.

But one other thing that I noticed was that every time I saw him, he was mostly alone.

There was a difference between us.

He was alone but not lonely.  
I was alone and lonely.

He seemed to enjoy his company. And I was asking myself why I was even alive.

I studied till four in the morning almost every day but couldn't even remember a bloody terminology. It was like the words hated me. I surely hated them too but had no choice. I was stuck with them and they refused to stay with me.

Most of my nights were also spent silently weeping under my covers while everyone in my room was asleep. I used to wake up and see the tear stains on my white pillow covers. The only thing consistent in my life.

But today I washed the covers too.

***

I got to know that he was also a member of the club- _The_ _Inkers_. Basically the group of smart students. They represented the school in debates, quizzes and other stuff.

And here I was reading the exact same page of my physics textbook for the third time. My mind keeps dozing off.

_If..._

_What if..._

_What if I ask him to help me?_

I shook off the desire and wiped my eyes. The tears were blurring my vision as they always do.

 _Electromagnetic induction_... I began reading. I can't understand the equation, no matter how much I try.

I pushed the book aside, switched off my table lamp and got inside the covers. My eyes were too dry to continue with my daily night routine. I hope I won't see tear marks on the fresh pillow covers this time.

***

I found myself standing outside the room assigned for 'The Inkers'. The club name was written in bold on the door which was half-opened.

I could see students sitting, walking, talking, interacting. This place was definitely not meant for me. I then saw him. He was talking to a group of students. Seemed like he was instructing them.

His smile was still so bright and he talked with his hands while tucking at the end of his jacket ever so often. Everything he does added to his style and charm.

He looked so approachable.  
Yet I failed to approach him.

I clenched my books tighter and walked away.

This became more like a routine. As the exams came nearer, I found myself walking across 'The Inkers' more often but never dared to knock at the door.

Weirdly, I had stopped crying myself to sleep, hoping the next day I'll ask him for help in studies and he'll help me.

My interactions with him were all in my sleep, in my dreams. I'd smile remembering my time with him even if it was in my imagination. I imagine him sitting across me, explaining me the weird exceptions in inorganic chemistry or explaining the key features of bryophytes or telling me a trick to learn the concept of electromagnetic induction.

***

I remember his smile. I remember his blue eyes. I remember how clear and shiny they were. I remember how his cheeks pushed up and made those eyes crinkle.

I remember how his lips curved when he was giving the speech on Renaissance literature. I remember how his expressions hardened, how he tried to contain his sadness and anger when talking about things like climate change, animal cruelty and so on.

I attended all the debates and speech competitions in which he participated this month, sitting at the back seat seeing him, hoping he doesn't see me.

He was an amazing orator. The way his voice carried his emotions was extremely heart-touching. He could make everybody feel what he felt.

I got a 'B+' in my E-waste management essay. I still can't believe. I heard his debate on the topic and... Wow. The teacher was impressed by me. I didn't feel vulnerable for the first time. I loved that feeling.

***

He even interacts with the audience and told about himself. He told us that he wasn't good at learning facts, so quizzes weren't his thing. He liked subjective things, movies, novels and wanted to become an actor.

_An actor?_

_Can you believe?_

I thought he'll tell me something like a doctor or scientist. But he wants to become an actor.

How amazing is that.

***

Next month, he stared in our school play.

I attended the recitation of the _Twelfth_ _Night_. He was actually the main lead.

God! When he said, "If music be the food of love, play on," I declared myself to be his number one fan!

The way he said it. _God!_ It was so... so... so... amazing!!!

I don't think he saw me but I was the first one who stood up as the curtains fell and clapped and cheered. _For him._

_I cheered?_

_Can you believe?_

***

I was again standing outside 'The Inkers.' I peeked my head a little to find him but I couldn't find him today. I sighed and turned at my feet, only to collide with someone. My books fell on the floor. Before I could even utter an apology, the person crouched down to collect my books. My eyes met with those same pair of blue eyes. _So clear. So shiny._

His smile reached his eyes seeing me while I suspected my heart-beat was non-existent right now. He quickly picked up my books and stood straight, pushing his curls out of his face.

"Hi! How are you doing?" He asked. His voice was so friendly and cheerful that it was almost like he was booming.

But _'how am I doing?'_ Isn't it something a person asks an acquaintance. Does he still remember me? Remember me as the dumb kid who copied his paper?

"Alexi said she saw you here often. I was actually going to ask you. Glad I met you here," He smiled even more.

"I... _uh_... yea-yeah." I stuttered the response.

Our confidence level was on the opposite ends of an irregularly weighted beam balance.

"Do you want to join the club?" He asked looking at the signboard and then back at me. The smile was still sticking to his lips.

_Me? The club?_

If it was the thirteen century then the club belonged to the nobility and I was a poor commoner.

"No." I chuckled trying to hide my embarrassment.

He looked confused. I tightened my fists and swallowed slowly before speaking— "I-I wanted some help in class. Thought if anyone could---"

He didn't let me finish and spoke instead.

"You should have told me early! Just three weeks to finals." He said as his expressions changed from cheerful to panicky in seconds.

How does he know I needed that sort of big help? Can't I just ask him a single question, why will three weeks' time be less?

But he let me copy his paper. The paper my peers claimed was too easy. Maybe he remembers how dumb I was.

His bottom lip quivered for a second then he spoke again, "Don't worry we'll manage. What subject you want help in?"

I gulped again and bit my lower lip.

He looked at me, curiously waiting for the answer.

"All," I said. I could hear my own voice sounding screechy. My gaze fell on my shoes.

I was so embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed. He didn't speak for a minute and then he sighed.

"No problem, we will get it done!" He stated confidently and patted my shoulder. My head shot up to look at his determined yet soft expressions. My heart felt like it was over-filling with warmth. I couldn't stop my lips to curl into a small smile.

"Thank you so much," I thanked him genuinely, he shrugged it off. I stretched my right hand for a handshake, "I am--"

"Tom. I know," He answered cutting me mid-sentence, "And I'm---"

"Harrison. I know," I said almost imitating his style.

He laughed shaking my hand. I laughed seeing him laughing. Maybe it was the heartiest laugh I have ever produced in years. I couldn't even stop smiling when the laughter subsided.

"When should we start?" He asked.

"As per your convenience."

"Let's first go for lunch. It's already lunchtime."

He wanted me to accompany him to the eating area. I nodded following him.

We sat on the bench and started eating our meals. He was eating as if he was hungry for a long time. And I was just somehow managing to push my food down my oesophagus with water.

"So, I'll collect all my notes today and we can meet tomorrow morning here for breakfast and then we'll plan your studies." He said, biting the carrot.

"Ah... Okay," I replied looking down at my plate. I still can't believe that he's talking to me and even going to help me with exams.

If it was a dream, I don't want it to end ever.

***

"Where's your breakfast tray?" He asked when we settled on the bench.

"I-I don't eat breakfast."

"What do you mean you don't eat breakfast? Why will you not eat breakfast?" He was surprised.

"I don't feel hungry in the morning," I said the truth.

" _What?!_ We ate dinner at eight last night. It's already nine in the morning. You have to eat it. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" He preached.

"I can't develop a habit of eating breakfast just like that," I defended, pressing my lips together.

"You should start with fruits. I have an apple in my backpack." He said taking out the said apple and handling me to eat.

I did eat it (half). And by the lunchtime I was hungry.

How weird is this human body? I never felt hungry when I used to skip breakfast and when I finally ate, I am already hungry.

After breakfast, attending our classes and having lunch, he took me to 'The Inkers.' He introduced me to the other club members as his 'friend'.

We sat on the corner and he took out his notes.

"So, for what purpose, are you going to study?" He asked. I was confused at first but then answered—

"To pass the exams," I said and surprisingly I didn't feel ashamed this time.

He divided the chapters in our books. He collected important terms and asked me to focus on only them rather than the complete syllabus. He made me flow charts and venn diagram. He explained me everything like a story. He never judged me when I couldn't answer or understand. 

We continued to eat and study together daily. After the first week, we even started to hang out together. He made me hear his favourite songs. I loved his music choice. He taught me to maintain a balance on the skateboard. He told me about him, his family, his dog, his ambitions. He asked me to do the same, I shrugged it off saying, "Not much" or "Nothing exciting."

***

Harrison praised my answers. He said my writing style was very organic. I don't even know what it meant but he surely loved reading whatever I wrote. I showed him my middle-school poetry book and he made me read everything on it multiple times. I hope his interest was genuine.

He even asked me to call him 'Haz' instead of 'Harrison'.

He kept telling me things. I loved listening to him. I loved when he snaked his arm around my shoulder. I loved the way he said my name. I loved his face, his eyes, his voice, his confidence, his generosity, his patience, his intelligence, everything about him.

I may even be in love with him.

***

On Sundays, I used to go to the forgotten pet centre near our school. It was the only thing I liked about my life (except for Harrison, but it's just the latest addition). I love playing with those cute puppies. I never told anyone about it but I literally asked him if he wants to accompany me there.

You should have looked at his face! He was so excited, he hugged me so tight and couldn't stop giggling.

"You should have told me earlier, Holland! You have no idea how much I love dogs. I even have a super sweet dog back at home." He told me.

We played with the dogs and ate ice-cream. We laughed and talked so much. I don't even know why he's sticking with me, but he said he liked the way I talk and I should talk more often. He didn't stop there, he took me to a nearby fare. We enjoyed some rides and even got in for a fun photoshoot.

I cried that night. But those were tears of joy. I had a friend and he was fricking amazing.

***

Exams were over.

And I am sure I have done better than just passing. But I am sad. It's the end of the year, the Christmas break. He'll be gone to his home and I'll be all alone, again. Or worse— I will have to go to Chris's place for the holidays.

I sighed looking up at the blank night sky.

"Hey yo, mate. How were your exams?" Harrison asked, plopping down beside me, looking up at the sky.

"Your courtesy. Can't thank you enough." I said, looking at his face. He nodded still looking at the sky, giving me an opportunity to stare at his wonderful features. He did have some bad teen breakouts on his face. I do too. Yes, they weren't pretty. Acne isn't pretty but I don't think everything about a person needs to be pretty. People can be beautiful regardless of not being perfectly pretty.

And Harrison is beautiful.

My eyes landed on his slightly parted lips. I wondered how it would feel to kiss them. I licked my suddenly drying lips.

"You up for Christmas holidays?" He asked, turning his face to look at me. I averted my gaze to the ground beneath.

"I... I dunno," I replied, pulling my legs near to my chest.

There was a pause. It felt like he would say something but he didn't. I spoke instead.

"I don't want to go to uncle's," I told him the secret I never tell anyone. He looked at me confused.

"He... He is not a good man," I said as my throat felt choking and tears started to well up and suddenly I started feeling so dirty.

Harrison's expressions turned serious, he shifted a bit closer to me. He snaked his arm around my shoulders and dragged me closer to his body. He let me rest my head on his shoulder. That's when I realised that I was crying.

"Talk to me, Tom," Harrison insisted softly as his fingers combed through my hairs.

I started weeping harder, he pushed me closer and engulfed me into a real tight hug.

"You are safe here, Tom. You shouldn't be afraid. Tell me." He kept repeating while his hands caressed my back. I had grabbed his sweater in my fist and was badly sobbing into the material. I will surely ruin the delicate fabric.

He let me sob silently for a while. And when he realised that I had stopped crying, he pulled himself away, then he rested his fingers below my chin and lifted it to meet his gaze.

His eyes seemed glossier.

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded. He waited for me to tell the whole thing.

"He used to t-touch me in wrong ways when I was younger," I confessed, embarrassed. I wanted to look down, away from his gaze but my chin was still fixed on the spot by his fingers.

I first thought that he's also going to cry. But then I saw his pained, empathetic expressions changing into hard angry ones. And suddenly his face radiated so much anger that I had to move back. His hand fell on the grass as he clenched them into a fist. He stood up.

"You'll come with me. Start packing your bags. I'll tell my parents. You will never ever have to see that asshole's face again. That bloody bastard. Eww. Fucking disgusting! He'll regret what I'll do to him. How dare he?!!!!" Harrison growled angrily. "Pack your bags. Mum will take us to our home on Saturday." He ordered almost rushing away but I stood up and grabbed his arm.

"You can't tell your parents," I said, terrified.

"I fucking will! That bastard will be in jail!" He almost yelled.

"No. No. You can't." I begged him, tugging him towards me.

"Are you an idiot Tom? He raped you. Multiple times! You're not even an adult, yet!" He jerked his hand away from my grip.

"He hasn't done that for years---"

"That doesn't forgive or change anything!"

"It's-it's my life. You don't have to make decisions for me!" I yelled this time. He froze and blinked at me.

 _"What?"_ He said coming closer, his expressions suddenly softening.

I didn't reply.

"He is the reason why you are broken, Tom. I can see the damage. I don't understand why you don't see---"

"I know that I am damaged. But it won't fix anything," I said, tears spilling down my face.

He came closer and cupped my face in his hands. He softly wiped off my tears with his thumbs. He bent down a little to see directly into my eyes.

"Would you have let him go if I was at your place?" He asked, his voice soft yet demanding. My breath was stuck in my throat but he didn't let the question slip away.

"You are my best friend in the world Haz," I answered honestly.

"And you are more than that to me."

My heart crumbled like a piece of paper. None of us spoke for minutes, just stood there on the same spot, motionless. I swallowed slowly, taking in a breath.

"It's... It's just... High school crush."

I couldn't believe my own words but he rolled his head back and laughed.

I waited for him to stop laughing. He did, and his expressions again turned serious.

"Time will tell that. But the main thing is... No one deserves what you suffered. And he needs to be punished. That's justice. And to be honest, if you were even a complete stranger to me, I would have said the same thing."

 _Well_... He has too many reasons to be _my_ high school crush.

I nodded in understanding. I should stop saving that evil Chris. Harrison is right.

"So you are coming with us? You can forget that more than friends thing, we'll talk about it later or maybe never, as per your wish. And definitely sexual orientation." He said rubbing his neck.

I thought for a minute.

"But... I... I am a boy. It's very shameful to admit that I was raped---"

"If anyone should be ashamed, it's your ugly uncle. Being a boy or a girl won't change the crime. You shouldn't be ashamed." He stated and again pulled me into a hug.

"You should never be ashamed. Never." His voice cracked and I knew that he was the one crying now. I placed my hands on his torso and pulled myself off his chest.

I looked at his tear-stained face. I wanted to grab his face and plant kisses all across it. But all I felt were his hands again holding my face. He brought his face down and planted a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingered on the spot for a few seconds, whispering the word 'Never'. When he parted, I didn't even waste a single minute and grabbed his face.

I crashed my lips into his. His lips were sandwiched between mine. I slowly and gently sucked on them as his hands travelled to hold my waist. He let out a small moan and my heart fluttered like a butterfly. When I broke the kiss, his eyes were still closed and mouth half-open. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he inhaled and exhaled. It felt as if the kiss wasn't yet over for him.

I don't know why but I was also breathing heavily. His lips slowly curved into a small smile and his eyelids half-opened.

"You know you are my first kiss, Tom?" He said slowly as if he was satisfied.

"I wish I could say the same for you," I said but with a sad smile. His hand moved from my waist to my face. He slowly pushed away the fallen curls on my forehead.

"It doesn't matter." He leaned towards me, his breath lingering on my lips.

"It's the first time I am going to kiss someone. Please don't mind if it's not that good." He whispered. His words only made my heart go even more crazy.

He softly attached his lips to mine. I felt his throbbing heartbeat in his chest and his firm stature. I pulled his face closer to mine, he moaned again, his mouth slightly parted. I swiped my tongue over his bottom lip. He took in a sharp breath.

I loved how his body reacted to everything I did. I never felt this crazy in my life. _So... so... so... crazy._ Kissing Harrison Osterfield was crazy and him kissing me back was even crazier. Who knew he could get this nervous and cute?

When he finally broke the kiss, I couldn't stop but kiss his pink, flushed cheeks.

"I feel crazy." He said giggling.

"Same."

"You'll come with us?"

"No doubt on that."

I smiled and looked at the sky. It was still empty but my heart was full of warmth.

Was it how it feels to fall in love?

Crazy... Crazy... Crazy...

_I love crazy..._

***THE END***

**Author's Note:**

> Read my Hollerfield fics on my **[ Wattpad account](https://my.w.tt/Ea9zKZyDr8)**.


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